Horns and Wings
by irish-pride03
Summary: The unconventional pairing of two young warriors brings a new story of adventure to the land of Krynn
1. The Horned One

I've finally gotten my muse back! Geez, it's been so long, months now, since I updated. So, I've redone all three chapters, and am currently typing up several more so that I don't fall behind in updating. Sorry to all those who read this and figured I'd not write any more chapters. I'm not done with these characters, not for a long shot!  
  
Summary: When a young minotaur warrior and a dragon team up, the adventure begins. GOD that's the corniest thing I've ever written in my entire life...but it gets the idea off the ground, right?  
  
Rating: PG-13 for violence and mild language.  
  
Setting: Sometime before the dragons were sent away by the Gods. Continent of Ansalon...durr  
  
Disclaimer: All places and familiar beings belong to the whole Dragonlance empire, while the characters I've made up belong to me. Once again...durr.  
  
Authors Note: I just finished reading "Land of the Minotaurs" for the umpteenth time, and it got me to thinkin'. I love the fact that they have a dragon/rider relationship between Kaz, a minotaur, and Tiberia, a silver dragon. You don't get many dragonriders who are anything other than elf or human, so I decided to play along that route, as I fell in love with it so much. Dragons are my favorite creatures, while minotaurs take a close second when in the topic of Krynn.  
  
Chapter 1: The Horned One  
  
She couldn't believe it. The day had finally come. Inside her chest was a gushing fountain of pride and courage. As far as she knew, this was a good thing. All the veteran warriors she had talked to, and also the ones still in their fighting prime, assured her that this feeling was regular when one was about to fight in the Circus.  
  
Nakluga, or Nak for short, was of the clan Madrik. Madrik was a clan well known for its warriors, and thus was high in the ranks of the Nethosak hierarchy. It was tradition amongst those of Clan Madrik that in their later adolescent years, the young minotaurs of the family would participate in the Circus. If they won, then they would be accepted as true members of the Clan, treated as adults, with respect. If they lost in the Circus, they shame the family. The only problem with that was that if you lost in the Circus, it meant, most likely, you were no longer amongst the living.  
  
This particular occasion marked the day of summer that declared the beginning Nak's last year of adolescence. Here she stood, cloaked in the shadow of the doorway that led into the arena. From her vantage point, she watched as the limp body of a full grown male lion was dragged off to the side. She counted this as a good sign, because the creature/minotaur fight was used at the beginning, as a teaser building up to the real battles. She nodded her head to the victor, as he limped past, to have his mauled leg bandaged.  
  
The cheers that thundered from the stands were cut off by the blaring of a loud, deep horn. Anticipation filled the air so thick you could choke on it. As all sound dissipated, three more clear blasts announced the next battle. Nak's grip on the hilt of her long sword intensified as she started to walk out, into the sunlight. As her name and clan was announced, she thrust her weapon in the air, and was greeted by a roar of applause. She lowered her hand and stepped off to the side of the circle, waiting for her opponent to appear.  
  
The muscular, chestnut furred male walked out, his chest out and his head held high, being greeted in the same way by the loud cheering and hooting. His eyes fell on his opponent, and stared intensely, as if weighing her ability by sight. A tall minotaur, even for female standards, Nakluga made for quite the intimidating sight. Though he was a well experienced warrior, and she not even classified as one yet, he couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of anxiety as he locked gazes with her. There were two types of minotaur females. Those built slender, with curves, and those, like Nak, who were built muscular. Her powerfully built body was covered in a midnight black pelt, while longer slightly wavy tendrils, almost like a horse's mane, fell across her shoulders and brow. Erupting from her fur, just above her ears, were twin horns, longer than usual, ivory white and curled forward, so that they pointed at him. Her honey brown eyes were ablaze with the fire of battle. Definitely a member of the Madrik warrior house.  
  
Nak had on a simple breastplate, and a chain mail kilt. Her shins and thighs were protected by plated guards, and a generic scabbard was slung across her back in the usual minotaur halter. He was dressed in a similar fashion, with the exception of the breastplate. Nak listened with only half her attention as the male was introduced, his name being somewhere along the lines of 'Zenkar'. After they were both introduced, three similar blasts of the horn signaled the beginning of the fight.  
  
After a minute of circling each other, the two were done adjusting themselves to their opponent's movements. Zenkar leapt forward, slashing downward with his long-handled axe. Expecting this, Nak kicked forward, stomping down on the flat of the blade with her hoof. Before he had a chance to react, she jabbed forward. He ducked, but the keen edge of her blade sliced a shallow groove into his shoulder, drawing first blood. There was a cheer from one half of the crowd, and a loud boo from the other, but all was forgotten as the fight continued.  
  
Five minutes later, neither of the minotaurs seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Nak had a shallow gash across her bicep that would probably heal well, not to mention various other scratches and bruises. But, she gave as well as she got. Other than his shoulder wound, Zenkar was sporting a brilliant black eye. Nak had weaved around an over-thrust, and simply decked him right then and there, much to the amusement of the crowd.  
  
Nak soon got her opportunity for the victory. They broke away from a weapon lock, and Nak feigned fatigue. The point of her sword drooped slightly, but just enough to make it clear, and her shoulders sagged. Zenkar's muscles tensed and he dove forward, sweeping the axe horizontally at neck-level, going for the all-out decapitation. Too late did he see the flash in Nak's eyes, as she ducked and moved forward, so that the axe head swung harmlessly over her head. She ducked her head, and pushed off the ground, digging one of her horns deep into the shoulder of the male. His shoulder guards stopped most of the attack, but she still felt the tip bite into flesh, and the grunt of pain issued from the warrior. She pulled back, yanking her horns free. She had a slight headache from the force of the blow, and she shook it to clear her thoughts. Bad move.  
  
She just caught the glint of sunlight on metal out of the corner of her eye. She found her legs not positioned to jump either left or right, so she leapt back, bringing her legs up. Raising her hands over her head, she fell into a backwards handspring, losing her sword in the process. Her quick thinking didn't come for free though; she wasn't fast enough to stop the edge of the axe blade from sweeping across her face. There was a searing pain, and then she was blinded as blood covered her face. She could tell the wound wasn't serious, but the blood had clouded her vision, despite her attempts to blink it away. Rubbing at it with the back of a hand, she backed away, in search of her weapon.  
  
Unfortunately, the male minotaur, now with a smile of triumph on his face, stood between her and her only blade. But she had one more trick up her sleeve, which formed itself in her mind as Zenkar slashed downwards at her. Using the adrenaline that coursed through her veins in a torrent, she jumped back at the last possible second. The oncoming blade dug into the dirt, becoming temporarily stuck. She jumped forward, placing one hard hoof on the blade, and jumped off it, spinning in midair. Despite her size, she surprised Zenkar as her leg swung up and connected with his jaw. There was the splintering telltale of the broken mandible, and the bellow of pain that was cut off as the minotaur was knocked unconscious.  
  
Nak landed in a slight crouch, ready for anything else. The crowd had gone silent, waiting for her to retrieve her sword and finish off the kill. Instead, she stood, and calmly walked over to him. Smiling gently, she turned, and raised her arms to the crowd. They cheered, until they realized, slowly, that she wasn't moving for the blade. The Emperor, Takerd, pounded a fist on the armrest of his throne.  
  
"Kill him, you are the victor! In the name of Sargas!" He commanded, but to no avail. Nak looked up at him with contempt in her eyes. This Zenkar, now starting to come around, was moaning almost piteously. He would be eating paste for a couple of weeks, and she was sure he had spit out at least two teeth. Was that not punishment enough? "He is a great warrior, and should not be butchered. I will not claim the life of one with so much honor."  
  
Honor was always the biggest virtue among minotaurs. Sargas had instilled the idea of minotaurs being the most honorable beings on Krynn himself. Nak believed this, of course, it was in her blood, but sometime, not long ago, she had found that following the laws of Kiri-Jolith, the bison-headed God of justice, was her true calling. It was then that she uttered the three words that would ultimately seal her fate within the minotaur hierarchy. "Sargas be damned." With that, she turned, and walked out of the arena. The crowd was silent, completely and totally stunned by her words.  
  
***  
  
As she was no prisoner, Nak was allowed to leave the Circus at any time, which she chose to do so now. She walked right out, and strode purposefully down the main street towards her clan's home. It was near the center of the city, as were most houses of the higher-ranking Clans. Therefore, it wasn't far from the Circus, which was of course the social gathering point in Nethosak.  
  
Many inhabitants of Nethosak watched as she passed, her face a mask of blood. As she reached the door, she barged right in, not bothering with pleasantries to the help or guards. Every member of her family had been attending the Circus, and so she would not have to worry about running into one of them on her way through the halls of the large manor. She stalked straight to her room, and stopped at the foot of her bed.  
  
There, waiting for her, was a chest. It was just a simple chest on the outside, but it was not the box she wanted. It was the treasure inside. As tradition went, if the young minotaur came back from the Circus alive, then they would receive their first real weapons. If they died, then the chest would be taken back to the store room, until the next warrior came home victorious.  
  
Unlatching the lid, she raised it, her eyes falling on the weapons laid before her. A strange two-bladed dagger, complete with a small six inch sheathe, was soon clipped to her belt. The scabbard she received in the arena was replaced by one of finer, more buttery leather, and was holding a broadsword of massive proportions. With that settled, she closed the lid, sighed, and headed for the fountain.  
  
In the back yard of the manor, a fountain flowed freely, as it was connected to a burbling stream. She looked at her bloody visage in the water's reflection for a while, before cupping her hands, and dipping them in the water. She proceeded to scrub the dried blood off, making herself more comfortable, and presentable. She then cleaned the cut and the other scrapes and wounds, to prevent infection. As she finished, she gazed long and hard at her muzzle. The wound would leave a handsome scar, and surprisingly, she couldn't wait. Her thoughts were interrupted by a harsh, deep voice.  
  
"Nakluga Menthros Madrik, do you have any idea what you've done?" She knew her father's voice immediately. As the patriarch of his clan, Delmex de- Madrik was accustomed to discipline and honor. And right now, both were in serious question. His voice wasn't raised, but even and deathly calm. Nak knew by experience that this was much worse. She'd actually be relieved if he yelled at her instead.  
  
Standing, she turned slowly, and faced her father. He was even more intimidating then she, just over 8 feet tall, with his massive set of horns and similar ink black pelt, though his was starting to streak silver with age. Suddenly feeling like a small child again, she looked at the floor. He spoke again. "You have seriously dishonored this clan, Nakluga. You were victorious in battle, but you let your opponent live! Not only did you dishonor this clan, but his own, as well. Do you know the consequences? I am well within my rights to send you to the Circus as a permanent guest, until you fight back the clan's honor. It's either that or you are exiled from our clan. Of course, the choice is mine."  
  
Nak frowned, her rage building like a fire in her belly. "You were once the leader of a great army, Father, you know how important it is for an army to have strong warriors! How many will you have if they're all killed during the Circus, as entertainment?" Delmex shook his head, his expression softening. "It is our tradition, Nak. You know that. You are a promising fighter, with a sound mind and a strong will. I wouldn't have you thrust into the Circus like some sort of criminal."  
  
Nak saddened, and hung her head once more. She blinked owlishly. "That leaves only one option." She whispered. Delmex nodded, and pulled her into a hug, before whispering in her ear, "Only in public, Nak. Know you will always be a Madrik no matter what the laws."  
  
With a last nod, she readjusted her back halter, and inhaled deeply. She smiled to her father, and walked out the door, without a good bye. They both knew she'd come back. Delmex declared that she had taken the ultimatum to the public soon after and left Nethosak in Clan exile.  
  
With her head held high and her muzzle set in a broad smile, she walked past the gates and out into the country. She was without a clue of what awaited her, but she was also struck with the confidence of the young and adventurous spirit.  
  
END OF CHAPTER ONE!!!!! Long, I know, but don't worry. The dragon will have his introduction in the next chapter. 


	2. The Winged One

Chapter Two: The Winged One  
  
A beautiful day, he thought, as a claw reached out, catching a piece of cloud. The Platinum Dragon must be happy. He watched as the captive fluff broke away from his talons, drifting off lazily on a breeze. The dragon's thoughts began to wander off into more interesting categories, before they were cut off abruptly by the gurgle deep in his stomach.  
  
He was hungry, all of a sudden, but it didn't surprise him. Every evening at a specific hour, his stomach would growl demanding sustenance. On more than one occasion, his siblings would quote, "Antares' stomach is better than any sundial...it works during storms!" The very thought of his siblings made him smile, but also a small amount of sadness crept into his mind. He had been away from the nest for an entire year now. At only a century, he was still considered young amongst the dragon kind. His own sire had been well over 600 when Antares had hatched.  
  
Shaking his great head to clear himself of the memories, Antares folded his wings tightly against his back, and began his swift descent. Wind whipped past him, playing with his tail. The large creature erupted from the bottom of the lowest cloudbank, flicking a wingtip to send him into a slow twirl. Anyone watching nearby would have thought him suicidal, or unconscious, by the way he was headed in a straight vertical fall. The ground rushed up at him, trees that were before just splotches becoming quickly defined.  
  
At less than twenty meters away from a painful death, his massive wings unfurled, and the air filled them with a loud whoosh. He arched his long neck and back, bringing himself parallel to the ground. The air was thick with the smell of wild roaming herd creatures, which delighted his extremely keen senses. From his place soaring over the clearing, he saw a cluster of at least thirty sheep grazing grass. As he neared, however, they took notice of him and broke away, bleating in fear.  
  
He skimmed over them, choosing the ones he'd most enjoy. A large, plump ewe was running away from his left, and he turned with a deft twist of his body. He followed her leisurely for a few moments, before reaching down and scooping her up in one claw. He carried the creature to a hillcrest close by, and landed with his three free limbs. Settling down on his back haunches, he mercifully broke the sheep's neck before beginning to devour her. The chrome dragons, he knew, would have simply eaten it alive, to relish in the terror and pain.  
  
***  
  
Ten minutes later, the young leviathan was digging fleece out from between his fangs with a talon, as he lounged in the evening sunshine. With a full belly and a warm breeze, Antares couldn't help but lower his head to the soft, lush grass, and close his eyes. The soft bleats of the now calmer sheep lulled him into a doze.  
  
A mist began to seep through his thoughts, bringing with it the promise of a dream. Just as the images were beginning to form, a rustle in the grass brought him back with a jolt, alarms screaming in his head. His eyes snapped open, cat-like pupils shrinking to wicked slits, startling the creature that stood beside his head.  
  
The first thing that ran through his head was the fact that the creature, a human, was holding a bladed weapon at him, smelling of hostility. The next, the small crowd of humans behind the leader, all with the same drawn weapons. He stood instantly, rearing back his head, a growl issuing from deep in his throat. Heat began to flare in his chest, and the warm tingly sensation traveled up his long, sinuous neck, until flames licked across his bared fangs threateningly. Besides this display, he also sent out a wave of his race's speciality.  
  
Dragonfear wasn't something to take lightly. It could tear even the mightiest of men to their knees, quaking and gasping in fright. Heck, even kender, known for their lack of fear, would cower if the dragonfear was strong enough. The humans who surrounded Antares backed up quickly, eyes widened. The very sight of the copper dragon coming to full alertness was enough for the humans. The leader fell to one knee, head bowed. He tossed aside his weapon.  
  
"My humblest apologies, you are a metallic dragon!" He said loud enough for Antares to hear. Antares lowered his head by snaking his neck down, until it was level with that of the human's. "And what else would I be?" He asked in his powerful baritone, not even blinking as he lessened the dragonfear. The man shook his head, his gaze still on the ground in his apologetic bow. "We've had some trouble with a red dragon these past few months. We received word from a scout that a dragon, possibly a red, was seen nearby."  
  
"A red? You mistake me for a red?" He asked incredulously, raising a claw to look at it. True enough, the setting sun gave his fiery copper scales a slightly reddish hue as he shifted it. From far away, one might as well have pictured him as a red. He shook his head. "It's understandable-- ?" The sentence trailed off, prompting the man to introduce himself.  
  
"I am Terrin, I'm the leader of the village a few hills over." Antares looked him and his ragtag hunting group over. The young dragon snorted his acknowledgement, before lowering his body. "Well rest assured I've no reason to terrorize your village, Terrin." His tone was sincere enough, so Terrin stood, and the group behind him relaxed. The human dipped his head and apologized once more for disturbing his sleep, and then they turned to take their leave. A thought flickered through Antares' mind.  
  
"Oh, Terrin." He spoke up, causing the man to stop, and turn back around. "If you believed me a red, what made you think that a group of a dozen humans could possibly take me down?" The group leader gained a slight grin on his bearded face. "If you really had been the red, you would have passed right over the wild sheep, and set about collecting your tithes of meat and treasure from our village." The copper froze, thinking this over for a moment, before his nodded. "Ah. Sensible, Terrin, sensible." He shifted his body so that his wings could spread and collect the last dregs of sunlight, when Terrin once again interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"This red, she is quite territorial, especially when it comes to metallics. I'd be wary if I were you." With that said, he turned on his heel and walked back over to his group, ordering them back to the village. Antares kept his gaze on their retreating forms, but his mind wandered. All through his hatchling years, his father had warned him and his siblings about the chrome dragons. It had been a red, in fact, who had taken the life of their mother, shortly after she had clutched their eggs.  
  
He absolved to visit this village, and check out how they lived, their conditions under the rule of the ruthless red dragon. But, he reminded himself, this chrome dragon would notice a large copper near the village in an instant. A smile, the best that a dragon could manage, spread across his muzzle. He looked down, at his front left claw. A ring, big enough to be a large man's belt, was fastened snugly around his middle talon. Set in the shiny gold was a finely cut sapphire stone, the size of a man's fist, with an odd vein of silver swirling through it. He blinked, and felt the warm spark of magic flow through him, originating from the now glowing blue stone. His body, ring and all, shrank, before the actual change began.  
  
His wings got sucked into his back, as did his long tail. He reared back onto his back legs, which thinned, the bones cracking into an upright position. His whole body was a series of sickening cracks and squishes, though he felt no real pain. The oddest feeling of all was when the many vertebrae in his long neck compacted together, bringing his head down to his shoulders. His talons shrunk and lost their black luster, turning into normal nails, and his eyes gained a silver blue tint, his pupils rounded out. The scales adorning his body seemed to melt together, becoming soft, tanned skin. The long, ivory horns that jutted out of his head burst into individual strands of short hair, darkening to the copper his scales had once been. He now stood as a tall, lean but muscular human man.  
  
As soon as the physical transformation had finished, silver tendrils erupted from the ring, slithering up his arm and spreading over his entire body. Seconds later they gained texture and color, becoming clothes. A black leather gauntlet wrapped around one forearm, with a single row of tiny silver spines running along one side. A white tunic with silver trim, tied off with a wide black belt, covered his torso, while slightly baggy midnight blue pants were tucked into black, fur-lined boots. He smiled again, this time with more success, revealing a row of straight, white teeth. He had only been in this form a few times before, and was making the transformation quicker each time.  
  
After stretching his long legs and taking a deep breath, he set off in the direction the humans had gone.  
  
***  
  
The village was modest at best, but by no means small. No one wore rich silks or carried extravagant accessories, but no one was in rags, either. The first thing that he saw upon entering the village was the small cluster of burned down buildings to his right. A small group of people were already halfway through building a new one overtop of the rubble. Even with the muffled senses of a human, he could still tell by the acidic smell of charred wood that hung in the air that they had been burned within the last few days.  
  
Antares set out immediately in search for the closest tavern. Only a year out of the nest and he'd already learned that this was the best place to find information. After only about five minutes of wandering, he came to a stop outside The Soaring Dragon. He couldn't help but chuckle at the crudely carved sign that hung over the door, with a dragon, silhouetted by the full moon. By the formation of the horns, he could tell it was a gold dragon. Shaking his head, he walked inside.  
  
As it was evening, the tavern was filled with the boisterous singing of the already drunk patrons, who were trying in vain to keep tune with the minstrel who played his lute in the corner. Antares made his way to the bar counter, clearing his throat to gain the bartender's attention. The burly man turned from his chore of scrubbing a pewter mug, and cast a questioning glance his way.  
  
"Ale, please." Antares said, loud enough to be heard over the horrible singing. The bartender nodded his reply, and went to the large wooden kegs, to fill up a mug. He came back a moment later, and exchanged the beverage for a coin that Antares had fished out of his pocket. Taking the mug, he began a long journey, filled with dangerous obstacles such as chair legs, barmaids and drink spills, to a free seat near the back of the tavern.  
  
Sitting down, he raised the mug to his lips, only to freeze with an inch of space. His gaze changed from the crowd to his drink, and he stared at the mug dubiously for a few seconds, before rubbing the rim off vigorously with his sleeve. That done, he downed a mouthful, almost instantly regretting it. His nose crinkled, and his eyes squeezed shut, as the fermented liquid burned its way down his throat, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste.  
  
"I know it ain't much, but what do ya expect when that red bitch takes away our money? We can't exactly afford the good stuff." Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at an apron. His gaze traveled up the apron, all the way to the face attached to the body that was attached to the apron. It was a barmaid, a woman too young to be called old, yet too old to be called young. Her blond hair was tied up in a bun, away from a face that was creased in a wry grin. She placed a hand on the tabletop, and leaned over, so that they could talk better.  
  
"Can I get you anything else, some food perhaps?" Thinking back on the unfortunate ewe, he shook his head with a smile. "No thank you. But, I would like some information, if it's not too much to ask." The woman, intrigued, sat down in the chair opposite him, still grinning. She introduced herself as Jolie. "What kind of information are you looking for?" She asked, trailing her long nails across the lacquered wood of the table. Antares shrugged, then leaned closer. "This red, ahem, bitch, as you so fondly call her." Jolie's eyes narrowed for a moment, before her smile was replaced by a slightly sadder expression.  
  
"A bane on us all, she's been. Calls herself Volk. Short for Volcanica. I mean, is it just me, or are dragons a bit too cliché?" Antares, himself named after a blazing, copper colored star, cleared his throat in embarrassment. "Yes, indeed. Please, go on." Jolie nodded, then sighed. "Anyway, every week, she comes by and terrifies the livestock, before collecting a tithe of meat and treasure." Antares thought back on what Terrin had said, and found himself loathing this red even more. The barmaid's voice brought him back to reality. "If we don't have anything she finds worthy enough, she goes and burns down three buildings, regardless of whoever may be inside of it. Every week we pray that a dragon knight comes and rips out her throat with a dragon lance, but each week, to no avail."  
  
Just as Antares was about to ask another question, the bartender called out to Jolie in a gruff voice. Her cheeks turning red, the woman turned back to Antares. "Sorry, Hon, but duty calls." She gave him a little finger-waggle wave, before getting up and heading over to the counter. The dragon in disguise leaned back in his chair, forcing down another mouthful of the drink. His eyes became locked on the tabletop, his thoughts glued on the dragon. He saw the burned homes, he saw how these people were poor and taxed, both in pockets and minds. A new objective popped into his brain; to put a stop to the red dragon, Volk's, reign of tyranny.  
  
He finished off the drink and was about to stand, when there was a shout that was heard easily above the rest of the noise in the building. This voice was clearly angered, and was answered by another, slightly higher, yet equally as angry voice. The rest of the voices became quiet, and the argument could be heard more clearly.  
  
"You cheated, scum!"  
"I didn't cheat, you're just a horrible player."  
"I want my money back!"  
  
Through a gap in the people, Antares could see a hand reach out and grab a furred arm forcefully. The creature attached to the arm froze, and broke the deafening silence.  
  
"Human, you'll release me, now."  
  
The voice was beyond cold, and seemed to get the creature's point across. The hand let go, and the next sound that came to Antare's ears was the door opening, and closing. Then, and angry growl, and five people stood, opening and slamming the door shut closely behind. Something nudged at the back of his brain that there was going to be trouble. Standing, he made his way agilely through the crowd and out onto the street. As the door closed, he heard the patrons erupt into off-key song as if nothing had happened.  
  
He looked around for a moment, before seeing the six follow the shadowed form into a less populated street.  
  
***  
  
AHHHH!!!!! dun dun duuuuuuuhhhh!!! Yeah, I'll give you three guesses as to who the furred arm belongs to! Heehee don't worry, the next chapter will be where our two heroes meet. 


	3. New Partnership

Okey dokes, I'm back on the wagon and writing up stuff. I love action sequences, so blah heh heh heh. Onward and so-forth, to the meeting of the heroes! Oh, yeah, got my first review!!! Thanks Lori! And about what you said, you know about dragons being slightly more arrogant? Well, there'll be a brief Author's Note at the end of this chapter, explaining everything...Actually I'm quite pleased you noticed that, for it plays a part (very brief mind you) at a later point in time..  
  
***  
  
Chapter 3: New Partnerships  
  
Antares followed the six as they rounded a corner. As he neared the same corner, he heard a scuffling sound, and a shout. His pace quickened. He turned the corner to a wild sight.  
  
The five men from The Soaring Dragon, all thoroughly drunk, were circling a minotaur. The horned creature was easily a foot taller than the tallest man, but in their inebriated state, the minotaur could have been no more than a foot high. The figure of the minotaur, despite being well- muscled, told him that she was female, and he walked over calmly to help her. The self appointed leader of the group, not the tallest but definitely the burliest, pulled a wicked looking dagger from his belt.  
  
"You owe me some coin, beastie!" He stretched out his free hand, palm up, and took a step forward. With no apparent regard for the four other men, now all with their weapons drawn, the minotaur reached out with a lightening quick movement. She grabbed his hand and bent it backward at the wrist, pulling his arm up so that his whole arm was immobile. With a grunt of pain, he jammed the dagger forward. She grabbed it with her own free hand. Forcing both of his arms away from each other so he couldn't move either direction, she yanked him forward, their heads connecting with a resounding crack. He fell down dazed, shaking his head, but the impact didn't appear to bother Nak in the least.  
  
Two strong looking men jumped out from behind her and grabbed each arm, a third wrapping his thick arms around her waist. Antares sprang into action, spinning the free man by the shoulder to face him. "Hey--!" He started to say, but the man seemed to know he was there, as he had already started swinging his fist before he stopped turning. The dragon-in- disguise's head snapped backward, and he blinked back stars. His attacker barely got another heartbeat in before Antares kicked out the young man's right leg, and landed a solid punch to the kidneys as the man's side was revealed to him.  
  
***  
  
Nak was barely aware of the man helping her with the attackers, as her main focus set on getting these three oafs off of her, before their leader smartened up and came at her with the dagger again. Saying a prayer to Kiri-Jolith, she lunged forward, bringing her arms to her chest. Her momentum set the two men holding her arms crashing together, while the man on her waist held on. With her arms now freed for the moment, she reached down, pulling the two-bladed dagger from its sheath. At that particular angle, Nak already knew she wouldn't have enough force for a kill, but she wasn't without her tricks. As a young calf, her father had told her of ways to wound her opponent gravely, without killing them. Twisting her wrist to a certain degree, she slashed down and back. The blade entered his back at a slant, so that the dagger struck the shoulder blade at an angle, scraping along it. With a scream of pain, he let go, falling into the fetal position in an attempt to hold a hand over the gash. With a swift twist of her body, she finished him off with a slash across his unprotected throat.  
  
The second the drunkards saw this, the remaining men froze, staring at their friend's body in complete awe, as if they'd never seen blood before. The leader, regaining his senses, called for them to run away. They scrambled to get away from the rearing minotaur, her eyes misted red at the blood rage coursing through her system. She looked down at the body at her feet, snarling in disgust. "These creatures would leave their fallen comrades behind; their dishonorable souls should rot in the Abyss."  
  
Antares nudged the man he had beaten unconscious with the toe of his boot, before switching his attention to Nak. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cleared his throat. Nak looked at him sidelong, as if seeing him for the first time. The tall, copper-haired human didn't appear to notice the line of blood that traced down his cheek from a cut across his eyebrow. She exhaled softly, turning to face him. "I thank you for your help, but I have no use of it any longer." She dipped her horns slightly, her voice clipped. She turned to walk away, when a hand wrapped gently around her bicep. Stopping mid-step, she began to growl, when something struck her. Now that this stranger was in a much closer proximity, and the majority of the beer-reeking attackers were gone, a new scent wafted through to her senses. The almost undetectable musk of a reptile. Either this man was a dragon rider, or something else...  
  
Nak looked down without moving her head, catching a glimpse of a ring that was shining bright despite the gloom of the street, before the stranger pulled his hand away. She sheathed the dagger, and looked at him over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised in question. Antares couldn't help but grin in satisfaction. This young warrior was curious, not to mention skillful.  
  
"I take it you're the go-looking-for-trouble type?" He asked, his voice giving off an amused tone. Nak's honey eyes narrowed, as she shrugged, still facing away from him. "Why would you think that?" She asked, irritation evident in her words. Antares simply grinned wider. Hook, line, and sinker, he thought to himself with glee. "Well, why else would you have walked into a darkened street," he swung his arm in a flourished indication, "when you could have gone just as easily down a well lit area when you knew that man and his cronies had a grudge?" Nak stayed silent, thinking it over. Yeah, she mused, I guess I am kind of looking for action. I've only been away from Nethosak for half a month and this was the first battle I'd had, albeit it was a short one.  
  
"Well, minotaur, if you truly are looking for action, come to the edge of the forest tomorrow morning. I have a...proposition." Nak, thoroughly intrigued, looked over her shoulder again, though did a double take, turning her whole body the second she saw that the man was gone. She didn't look very impressed, for what it was worth. "What an odd individual," She whispered aloud.  
  
Antares watched her from his position in the shadows, the grin growing a fraction of an inch with every thought. She wasn't a bad minotaur, his natural sense-thanks to his dragon ancestors- told him that much. Maybe her heart was true enough to ride atop a winged behemoth into battle with another. He walked off into the street, leaving her standing there, not even noticing him passing. He looked back momentarily, to see her shrug, and then head off in the direction of the Inn.  
  
***  
  
Morning came fast, too fast for Nak. The rooster that perched dutifully a short ways away from her window, crowed raucously with the rising sun. With a loud yawn, she tried to get out of the bed that was at least half a foot too small for her frame. She realized too late that the sheets she had worn were wrapped around her legs and arms like a coiled snake, and she tumbled onto the floor in a very undignified heap. With her free arm, she groped along the bedside table until her hand closed around the familiar sheathe. Taking the dagger out, she proceeded to shred the sheets into mere ribbons. Just because she was of different mind than most of her kind, didn't mean she didn't share similar personality traits, such as the just-displayed streak of impatience.  
  
Dragging herself to her feet, she strapped on her armor and weapons, before piling the remnants of the linens atop the mattress. Oh well, she thought, it's just going to be one more coin in payment. She made her way down the creaky wooden stairs into the common room, where she could smell breakfast being prepared all the way from the kitchen. She plunked herself down onto one of the chairs, before digging into one of the warm breakfast rolls that were out for the tenant's enjoyment.  
  
Something was nagging the young minotaur, making her look out the window, as if telling her she had somewhere to go. She watched as the sun completely breached the cover of the hills and treetops to the east. Treetops... Forest... Rising sun... Morning! As the pieces fell together like the tumblers in a lock, she got up and dashed outside, the half eating roll forgotten. Ten seconds had passed before the door opened, and she jogged back, grabbed the remaining half of the roll, and ran back outside. That strange human's offer had been way too cryptic to pass up. Back in Nethosak, she was known for her curiosity, and was often reprimanded for it, yet it only seemed to make the trait grow bolder.  
  
Passing the skeletal frames of the houses being rebuilt, the same Antares had seen coming into the village, she ran out the gates, and onto the dirt path. The hills were in her way, but only a few, until she hit the tree line. Her hooves dug into the packed earth, propelling herself forwards. Just in case, her mind scolded, pull out your sword!  
  
Her arm obeyed the command, pulling the massive bladed broadsword from the black decorated scabbard across her shoulders. Instead of the heavy blades that came straight from a mold, this blade was different. A commissioned piece made for the kin of a General, it was a plate of silvery steel, heated and folded over time and again, then tempered into a keen edge. It made it lighter, not to mention sharper and more balanced.  
  
Nak hit the treeline in less than ten minutes, dodging roots and overturned logs. After about a few moments of running, she stopped, as a thought filtered into her mind. He said the forest. He didn't say where. "By Kiri-Jolith, this forest is huge! He could be anywhere!" After that exclamation, she let loose a long line of very colorful curses in the minotaur's dialect. It was immediately forgotten as her hearing picked up something. There was a rustle of leaves up ahead of her that caught her attention in full. Hoisting the sword, she made her way cautiously over. Could be the man, could be an ogre, could be a squirrel digging in the leaf litter for all she knew, either way, it was better to be prepared.  
  
Ducking under a fallen tree, she looked up, suddenly coming up short. The trees...ended. Simply ended, no shrubs, no slight thinning of the canopy, just gone. There was a cleared, perfect circle of grass easily twice the size of the Circus fighting arena. And in the middle, seated leisurely atop a boulder, was the man. The copper-haired human male who had piqued her interest almost immediately. She walked over to him, slowly, in case he was only a ploy.  
  
She sniffed. There it was, that reptilian smell. Maybe he keeps lizards as pets, she reasoned, shrugging inwardly. She finally stopped beside him, her sword still hanging tightly from her right hand. "I'm here." She said with an edge to her voice, just a slight touch of the attitude she kept locked up, usually reserved for her elders and 'betters'. The human simply smirked, his eyes closed.  
  
"Really, I hadn't noticed the great, hulking seven foot minotaur looming over me." Though his words dripped sarcasm, he opened his eyes, tossing her a grin. She obviously wasn't in the mood, for she simply placed her hands on her hips, sword still in the right, and glared. He winced, slightly. "Oh, not a morning person I see." Nak shook her head in agreement.  
  
Remembering the reason they were really there, Antares fell back into his cheery mood. "Oh yes, that's it. That's it. My proposition." Once again, a stoic nod. He cocked his head to the side. "You've heard of Volcanica, haven't you? Volk, the red dragon?" The warrior in Nak was revealed briefly as her hackles rose. "Yeah." She replied gruffly, having heard similar, though more detailed information that Antares himself had heard from Jolie the barmaid. "Well, by your reaction, I'd say you want her gone too." Nak caught on quickly, and threw back her head in a laugh.  
  
"Take out the Red? Oh, now that's fresh. A minotaur who isn't even fully adult yet, and a man who can do no more than grin foolishly at one with a weapon. Oh yeah, we'd take her out in two minutes, flat." Rolling her eyes, she turned and stared walking away. A waste of time, and an early morning. This human was lucky that she didn't gore him right now. As she hit the treeline, his voice carried to her ears, surprising for the distance she had moved.  
  
"What if all is not as your eye sees it?" Once more with the cryptic stuff. She turned with an exasperated sigh, which swiftly turned into a gasp as she witnessed his transformation. Wings erupted from his back, as did a tail from his pants. The copper of his hair drained, like cheap dyed fabric in the rain, down over his face, and spreading across his skin, leaving his hair white and his skin orange. Scaled patterns started to show up on his skin, and his flesh gained a hardened, metallic shine. His hair, now white, grew long and hardened together, forming spiky horns atop the crest of his head, and his upper jawline. His eyes swirled and lost their icy blue coloring, turning completely gold with the black cat-slit pupils. His nails grew long and black, and his face elongated into a razor- sharp tooth filled snout. His grew in size and girth, and his neck stretched out. His clothes had long since disappeared, and the ground trembled as he fell forward gracefully onto all fours.  
  
He turned his head and stared at her expectantly, his fangs slightly bared in what Nak could only imagine was a mockery of a smirk. She could only ask the one question that entered her mind. "Who are you?" She was rooted to the spot, unable to move her feet. She wasn't afraid, simply suspicious. Very, very suspicious. The copper dragon blinked a few times, before answering. "I am Antares." He continued his intense stare for a few more seconds. "I know who you are, just not your name. If you'd be so kind.." Nak waited for a few moments, weighing her options, and what had just happened within that last five minutes. Figuring she had nothing else to do, she introduced herself formally. "Nakluga de-Madrik, of Nethosak." She executed a militarian bow, before returning to her original stance, with her arms crossed over her chest, muscles cording from the tension as she stared at the dragon's needle-like teeth, which were almost imperceptibly overlapping his bottom...lip. Well, the dragon's version of a bottom lip, at least.  
  
"Well? You're a smart beast, I suspect you already know what is intended." His voice was no longer the light tone of a human, but the deep rumble of his true form. He half expected Nak to shake her horned head and walk away, what with the offer on the table being so risk-filled. He was greatly relieved when she inclined her head a bit. Not exactly a yes, but at least it wasn't a resounding 'no'. The dragon, large enough to fill a full quarter of the clearing, took two steps and was close enough to the minotaur to touch her with his nose. He didn't of course, so as not to terrify her. She may have been a warrior, of a long line of warriors, but inside, she was still just a kid.  
  
Nak's mind whirled, not even noticing the dragon come nearer. A dragon rider? Her? There had been many stories during the wars that elves and humans rode the backs of dragons and flew them into battle, but never once had she heard of a minotaur. If she did this, and word got back to Nethosak, then she may be accepted back into the society, and then some. But, as the thoughts of honor and glory flashed through her mind's eye, that typical question of risk broke through. She could very well die. Not even during a battle, perhaps simply from a strong wind? There were so many things to consider, but her youthful exuberance and thirst for adventure overpowered her wiser, more safety-conscious side almost immediately.  
  
"I'll do it." Her voice was soft, her eyes downcast, as the words startled the both of them. "You will?" Antares asked, leaning in close, studying her. She looked up, her eyes wide and shining with excitement. Her fists clenched and unclenched. The young dragon, though quite large in size, shared the minotaur's surge of adrenaline and excitement.  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: Okay, not quite as long (possibly, didn't check) as the other chapters, but I just wanted to get it up and going before too long. I hate not updated for more than a few days. Anyways, yeah, there you have it. Oh, and the reason for having Antares so happy and friendly and such, because if he'd been rude and arrogant, do you think someone like Nak would have even agreed to come to see him? I dunno, think for yourselves, people! Heh heh..next chapters comes up soon......as does Antares' true dragon persona *wicked cackle* oh..........REVIEW!!!!!eeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!*runs around in circles, barefoot waving arms wildly* 


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